Shut Up and Dance
by KayleeThePete
Summary: At the time Oliver wanted to pound his head against a wall, calling himself every type of asshole in existence, but years down the road instead he'd just shake his head at his own idiocy. Olicity S1 AU-ish, post-Dodger


So, this is a one-shot gift for my beta and darling dartie, SassySnow1988. We were chatting and she posited what would happen if Oliver and Felicity had drunkenly kissed after the drinks after Dodger. It ended up being her request for Christmas, and this is my Christmas gift to her. The title comes from the song "Shut Up and Dance" by WALK THE MOON.

Disclaimer: I own a grand total of the three season of Arrow and one season of The Flash on blu-ray and an Oliver POP doll and I bought the song "Shut Up and Dance" on iTunes, that's it… I do not own Arrow or the rights to "Shut up and Dance" anything therein, and no money is being made off of the production of this.

Sassy, happy belated Christmas, dartie!

-ARROW-

 **Shut Up and Dance**

At the time Oliver wanted to pound his head against a wall, calling himself every type of asshole in existence, but years down the road instead he'd just shake his head at his own idiocy.

-ARROW-

Oliver helped a giggling Felicity from the taxi, her shoes dangling from his fingers, unable to stop his lips from twitching at his inebriated and giddy partner.

After catching the Dodger Felicity had declared that she needed a drink…or three, and they'd decided to head to a Mexican restaurant nearby since according to her margaritas are _just_ the drink to process nearly getting blown up. They'd toasted their new team—Oliver refused to use Felicity's moniker for them, Team Arrow—over a shared taco plate and loaded nachos. Diggle had stayed for two drinks before bowing out, saying he needed to go see Carly, but not before securing promises from both of them that they'd catch a cab. Diggle caught Oliver's eye before he left, getting a nod of confirmation at his silent questioning glance at Felicity, and only then fully relaxing and letting himself leave, secure the reassurance of Oliver's promise to see their genius partner safely home.

Both Felicity and Oliver drank more than they normally did—well, at least more than Oliver drank since his return, though he still refused to let himself become drunk to the point he wasn't able protect them both. It was after as they stepped out of the restaurant that Felicity's heel caught on the threshold causing her to stumble; the only reason she didn't faceplant was because Oliver had been beside her and caught her. Giggling she fell back into his hold, letting herself be caught against his chest, trusting him to keep her from ending up on the pavement.

The scent of violet and lilies that'd been teasing Oliver for months washed over him as the blonde's soft curves pressed against his hard muscles, stealing his breath and sending his heart skipping beats. And for the first time since Felicity had rushed up to them, bomb around her neck, he felt himself relax.

"Heels," she'd half grumbled half laughed, just staying in Oliver's arms as she reached down to remove each shoe. Once her soles were flat on the ground, if still wobbly, she turned around in his embrace, shoes in one hand and patting his chest with the other, grinning up at him. "Good thing you're sooooooo hard." Felicity shook her head. "I _meeeeean_ strong," giggling at her own innuendo for once.

Oliver normally would've been uncomfortable, pushing her away, but the alcohol in his veins warmed and mellowed him, instead a small grin curved his lips. He reached out, plucking the shoes from her hand, and taking the one on his chest in his own. "Let's get you home, Felicity." He waved to the valet for a cab.

"Mm…" Felicity leaned into him, trying to cuddle closer. "You're realllly warm."

He glanced down at her, a frown lightly creasing his expression. "Are you cold?"

She shrugged but a shiver running through her frame belied her nonchalance.

Releasing her for a moment Oliver pulled off his coat and draped it over her shoulders, unable and unwilling to stop the grin that matched the one she beamed up at him as he pulled her wild curls out from under the collar. He watched as Felicity slid her arms into the sleeves, a feeling rose in his chest, seeing her standing there, _his_ coat hanging open over her short, glittery, gold dress, the bottom of the coat falling a couple of inches below the hem and the cuffs reaching her fingertips.

Just then the valet called out, alerting them to the taxi he'd flagged down; Oliver guided her over, palm cupping her elbow, supporting her as she got into the vehicle. He handed the valet a tip before sliding in after her, rattling off her address to the driver.

Felicity leaned her head against his shoulder. "This was a good day." His head snapped to look down at her, eyebrows relocated to his hairline. "I _mean_ , it was a good win," she clarified. "We took down a _really_ bad guy and no one died. And," she perked up even more, grinning up at him, "he didn't get your family jewels!"

Oliver chuckled at not only her adorableness but also at the fact that she didn't correct herself. "Yeah, it was a good win."

With a contented hum she nodded against his shoulder, leaning into him more with the motion of the taxi. Without him telling it to, his arm pulled from between them to wrap around her shoulders, pulling her more firmly into his side; Felicity immediately snuggled deeper into his embrace.

There was something about her, he knew it, _felt_ it, from the moment he first met her, this bright ray of light and color and vibrant life. Felicity was different from anyone he'd ever known, she drew him in, over and over he went back to her for help when he should've gone to others for tech assistance, but he just _had_ to go see her, be near to her. He knew well enough that a computer tech wasn't the person you go to for a chemical analysis, and even as lacking as his techs skills were Oliver knew well enough how to Google someone, but he'd wanted to see her and was happy to use the excuses to bask in her warmth and light.

The taxi rolled to a stop in front of Felicity's building; Oliver leaned forward handing the driver enough cash to cover the fare, along with a little extra. Felicity opened the car door, trying to push herself out, he reached out, grasping her waist to steady her. She grinned at him over her shoulder as she stepped out onto the sidewalk, Oliver following after her. Using the excuse of supporting her, he kept his free arm wrapped around her waist, her shoes dangling from his fingers while she giggled, leaning into him.

They walked into the building, Felicity waving at the night man behind the desk, greeting him cheerily by name; the older man raised his eyebrows, eyeing Oliver dubiously.

"He's takin' care of me, George," she reassured him. "He's my Oliver. He takes care of me." The blonde rested her head on his shoulder.

Oliver cleared his throat, trying _very_ hard to not react to her calling him "her" Oliver, nodding to George, trying to let the man see that his intentions were honorable, that he wanted to protect and take care of his IT girl. The older man still didn't look thrilled, most likely recognizing Oliver and not liking his history—Oliver could appreciate someone being protective of Felicity, especially the man who was charged with the night watch—but he nodded and waved them on.

"Thank you, George!" Felicity sang out as she and Oliver moved into the elevator; Oliver pressed the button for her floor. "You know," she giggled, leaning into his chest, "I should totally be weirded out by you knowing not only where I live but what floor when I've never told you."

He had the good grace to blush. "It was in your QC HR file."

Laughing she wrapped her arms around his waist. "Well, I guess that's just you, invesssssssstigating people firs'. Right?" She grinned up at him.

A soft chuckle rumbled from him, hugging her to him, relaxing, how well she understood him, accepted his need for control. "Yeah."

The doors slid open and Oliver let her urge them both out of the elevator and towards her door, she drew out of his embrace but held onto his hand, pulling him along behind her to her door. "You don't trust easy, Ol'ver." He felt the prick of guilt. "But s'okay." She kept leading him to stop before her door, turning to face him. "Those years were hard for ya, I think ya forgot how to trust. But yooooou're trustin' me n' Dig. And _that_ ," she poked a finger into his chest, "is a _start_."

Felicity was grinning up at him so sweetly, that dress shimmering, the hem fluttering teasingly along her upper thighs, his jacket draped on her, fingertips playing with the cuffs. She was so warm, and adorable, and he was just so _drawn_ to her.

Without making a conscious decision to do so, Oliver pressed his lips to hers.

She gasped in surprise before clutching his shirt, pulling herself up, closer to him, kissing him back.

A soft moan escaped him, her soft, full lips kissing back, parting against his, her tongue teasingly running over his upper lip. Oliver let his hands slip under the jacket to grip her hips, fingers digging into the fabric of her dress, pressing her body against his; she wrapped her arms around his neck, helping in his endeavor to pull her as close as possible. Her nails dragging over the nape of his neck, tugging at the little hairs there sent shudders through him, he sucked her lower lip between his. Nothing had felt this good, this right… _ever_.

"Oliver," she gasped into his mouth.

And it was the sound of Felicity, _his_ Felicity, saying his name like he'd imagined in the fantasies he'd been trying so long to deny, that made him realize what he was doing: Kissing his partner, his _drunk_ partner. No, he wasn't this guy, he didn't take advantage of women like this, certainly not _Felicity_. _Never_ his Felicity.

Felicity nipping his lips nearly distracted him into giving into the intoxicating experience of kissing her again, but Oliver managed to force himself to lift his head from hers, far enough back that her lips couldn't reach his, hands pulling her away from him. "Felicity, wait, no…"

At first she blinked up at him bewildered, still dazed from the kiss, then her expression cleared, going nearly completely sober, embarrassment flooding her face she jumped back from him as if burned. She spun around, fumbling with her keys, trying to get it into the lock. "Sorry, 'course. Uh, th—thanks for looking after me. Making sure I got—I got home safe."

"Felicity—"

"Thank you, Oliver," she cut him off, finally managing to get the door open, tossing him a tight smile over her shoulder before she shut the door behind her.

"Shit," Oliver spat out under his breath, rubbing his hands over his face and back to grasp the back of his neck.

How the hell did he fix this fuck up?

-ARROW-

CLANK

CLANK

CLANK

He'd been at the salmon ladder for nearly an hour, trying to figure out what the hell to do, how to fix his epic-level fuck up, when Felicity arrived. He hadn't realized just how much he needed her until he was facing the thought of possibly losing her, that she might decide to leave after he took advantage of her like that.

Diggle called earlier asking for the night off, he had another date with Carly, and Oliver certainly wouldn't begrudge him trying to make their relationship work. So it would just be him and Felicity. He _had_ to make amends tonight.

The lock on the buzzed and the door squeaked open, familiar heels clicked at the top of the stairs, and then it clanged closed again. Felicity's shoes tapping down the stairs prompted him to start climbing down the salmon ladder. Oliver would never admit it, but the reason he didn't just drop down was because he knew that the moment she reached the bottom of the stairs Felicity would end up staring at him, she couldn't look away from him when he was on the salmon ladder. The first time she'd done that was the first time he'd actually felt pride in his own body, beyond its usefulness in his crusade, since before the island.

She reached the last step… And kept her head down.

Felicity didn't look up, her eyes remained focused on the floor.

His heart fell, as he watched her head to her desk, head down, not looking up at him once. Disappointment lodging in his gut, Oliver let himself drop rather than climbing down the last few rungs, landing easily on the floor. He swallowed, approaching her slowly, softly saying, "Hey."

He could now see that her cheeks were a bright pink, even as she still refused to look at him, focusing on pulling things out of her bag. "Hey," her voice was barely above a whisper. His blond genius cleared her throat. "So, where's Dig?" She was obviously trying to sound upbeat, but her nerves came through loud and clear.

Oliver rubbed his fingers together. "He's taking the night off, going out with Carly."

"Oh…" She fidgeted with a pen.

He opened his mouth to speak, but Felicity spoke first.

"Have you gone to make up with Detective Hall yet?" Her words escaped in a bit of a rush.

"No." In truth he'd actually forgotten about his disastrous date with McKenna entirely; a tiny blonde monopolizing his thoughts instead.

Her bespectacled gaze stayed on her desk. "You probably should. I mean if you want a chance with her."

"I don't." The response was automatic, and 100% the truth. He liked McKenna, she was a good person and a fun girl, but she was pretty much everything that he'd left in the past and everything he _really_ shouldn't get involved with.

Felicity's head snapped up at his quick response, surprise sparking in her blue eyed gaze as it finally met his.

Oliver continued, feeling he needed to explain. "Even if she wasn't a cop, she keeps seeing me as the guy I was nearly six years ago, and I just… _can't_ be that person." His thumb pressed into his index and middle fingers. "I'll apologize later, but I think it's best if she and I don't try for anything, especially with all of the secrets I have to keep from her."

"Oh." The single sound left her on a breath, after a moment longer of her eyes searching his face she dropped her head again, pink creeping up her neck. "Yeah, cop and vigilante, not really the ideal pairing. Kinda makes things awkward with the whole her job being to arrest you and…" For once her babble trailed off into silence on its own.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped closer to her. "Felicity, about last night—"

She suddenly burst into motion, shifting things across her desk and cutting in, "I meant to thank you, for making sure I got home safely last night. I don't drink like that often, it's been years actually, I think the last time might've been this frat party that a friend dragged me to. I remember waking up on the roof of the chemistry labs with a couple of friend, _still_ not sure how we got up there. Come to find out we'd reprogramed the computers in the labs to make animal farting noises and the sound system to play _This is the Song that Never Ends_ every morning at 8:30, in the middle of the morning classes—took them a _month_ to fix that—thankfully the administration never found out it was us."

He took another step closer to her. "Felicity, about the kiss." Oliver normally would've been more than happy to take the out she was giving him, to ignore what happened in favor of going back to their simple, easy status quo…but he couldn't. He just couldn't let go of that (fucking _amazing_ ) kiss.

"It's fine, Oliver," she quickly cut in again, lifting her head to look at him, a tight smile on her face.

His head tilted to the side, eyes questioning on hers.

Cheeks beginning to take on a hue closer to red, Felicity ducked her head, twisting the pen between her fingers. "I mean we were both drunk, and nothing _really_ happened. Not that anything would, I mean, because you're _Oliver Queen_ and I'm…I'm _me_. And I mean there's _no_ way that we'd ever…" She swallowed, her face close to the shade of a tomato at this point. "Talk about unthinkable. You and I. The gorgeous billionaire vigilante and the nerdy IT girl…"

Oliver stared at her. She thought that _she_ wasn't good enough for _him_?! God! Didn't she know it was the other way around?! That she was the one _miles_ too good for him?! How could she not _see_ how amazing she was, and what an epic fuck up he was?! How could she think he couldn't want her?! He _had_ to find some way to make her understand, some way to make her _see_.

Her fidgeting fingers drew his gaze again, and there it was. A red pen. Such a simple, innocent object, meaningless to most people. But for him, it was a symbol, a reminder of the moment his life changed, even if he was still realizing the full extent of how much it'd done so.

" _Felicity Smoak?"_

" _I know who you are."_

The moment he saw that little red pen twisting between her turquoise painted nails he just couldn't hold back any more.

"Felicity," he breathed her name.

She looked up in time to see him take the final step, closing the distance between them; hands coming up to cup her face. He took in the sight of her slightly parted lips and bright blue eyes, wide with surprise, before ducking his head to cover her mouth to his.

For excruciatingly long moments she was still under his touch, not responding to his kiss; he was about to pull back, heart aching, when suddenly she was gripping his wrists, lips moving against his, and he relaxed. It was better than he'd remembered from last night, especially without any alcohol to blur things, her lips were so soft and full and tasted faintly of strawberries, one of his hands slid down to wrap around her waist, pulling her closer. Felicity's hands left his wrists fumbling slightly as they moved up his chest, sending a shudder through him as the trailed over his bare skin, to grasp his shoulders, fingers digging into the muscles, pulling herself up to get closer to him. She rose as high as she could on the toes of her panda face flats; Oliver grinned against her mouth, he loved those shoes, so adorably Felicity.

Oliver knew they needed to talk, he needed to explain, they needed to discuss the kiss last night and the one right now, but oh, how he _hated_ the thought of breaking off this (yet again fucking amazing) kiss. Slowly and oh-so reluctantly he lifted his head a bit, ducking it to peck her lips twice more before finally pulling back, but making sure to keep his arms wrapped around her. He slowly opened his eyes, gazing down at her, hers were still closed, breathing slowly. Finally her eyelids fluttered open, blue eyes meeting hers.

"Felicity…" he whispered, leaning down to rub his nose against hers, unable to help kissing her once more, lingeringly.

She hummed against his lips before he finally drew back. "Wow," she finally breathed, blinking up at him. "That…that felt like—that felt like something."

"Felicity," he moved his hands to cradle her face, "You think that you're somehow less than me, that I somehow could want more than you." Oliver shook his head firmly. " _You're_ the one who is better than me, deserves _so_ much better. So much better than me." Gazing down into her wide, bespectacled eyes, he swallowed hard. "I'm broken in ways you don't know, done thing that you couldn't imagine. _You_ deserve _so_ much better than _me_."

She slowly blinked up at him, watching him. "Isn't that for me to decide?"

He swallowed thickly again. "I have nightmares, Felicity, I…I _attacked_ my mother when she woke me up from one. Last night, when you said that I have trust issues…that's because," he took a deep breath, "nearly every person I trusted over those five years either betrayed me or—or died."

Her breath caught at his admission.

His grip on her tightened slightly. "So many people I—I loved have died." Oliver squeezed his eyes shut. "I—I _can't_ let that happen to you. I _can't_ lose you."

"Oliver," Felicity gasped, mouth falling open in a perfect magenta "o".

"For so long, I couldn't let my guard down, the only thing I could see when I looked at people was threats or targets. And even after I got back I just couldn't shut that off." One hand ran through her hair, the silky strands sliding through his fingers, the other's thumb stroked her cheek. "And then I walked into your office…" His lips curved into a grin. "There was just something about you."

Pink flooded her cheeks. "I was chewing on a _pen_ , Oliver." Her expression was rather befuddled.

His smile was warm, tears pricking the back of his eyes, swallowing. "It was red."

Shock, wonder and such utter tenderness chased across her face. "Oliver." Felicity reached up, cupping his face between her palms. "I don't know how we could…make this work, but," she bit her lip, eyes searching his, "I want to _try_. I want to try being an," the blonde gestured between them, "being an us." Her fingers gently stroked his cheek, hope blooming in her expression. "I know it will never be easy. Us," she clarified. "But I don't _want_ easy." Her face lit up with a bright grin. "I want _you_."

Oliver could hardly breathe around the lump in his throat, his heart squeezing. When was the last time someone had wanted _him_ , knowing as much about him as Felicity did? Knowing about the darkness in him? Knowing his…problems? Knowing that he was a _killer_? Maybe if he was a better man he'd be able to stay away. Maybe if he didn't want and _need_ her like he did he could let her go.

"Felicity…"

"Do you dance?" she asked quickly, eyes twinkling.

His eyebrows flew up. "Dance?"

Grinning, Felicity backed out of his arms, reaching behind her to tap her fingers over the keys. "Dance. I love music, and I like dancing. So do you dance?"

"Uh…" Oliver felt heat suffuse his face, "not since my mother forced me to take lessons."

Music began to flow from the speakers and she reached for his hand. "You took lessons? That's more than I ever did," she teased him, pulling him to an open space.

"Well, I didn't exactly excel at dancing," he mumbled, letting her drag him along behind her.

"Oliver…" she drew out his name, pulling his arms to wrap around her waist. "I somehow find it hard to believe that your mother would loose you on high society without _some_ skills on the dancefloor." Her grin was brilliant, wrapping her arms around his neck.

His hands tightened on his waist. "Skills might overstate—"

"Oliver," she murmured, rising on her toes to brush her lips against his.

"Uh huh?" He automatically nodded, eyes falling shut at the feel of her mouth against his.

"Shut up and dance with me."

-ARROW-

When he first kissed Felicity, Oliver thought that it might be the biggest mistake he'd ever made, that his idiocy ruined everything. When he asked her out on their first _real_ date the next day, he thought it was actually a good idea. After the Glades fell down around them and she held him as he mourned his best friend, he was _beyond_ grateful for it. A year later, in the aftermath of the terror of seeing Slade's blade at her throat, when he went down on knee on the beaches of Lian Yu, asking her to marry him, and she said yes, he believed that it was one of his best ideas ever. And at their wedding, when she told him, grin on her face, to "shut up and dance" with her, he _knew_ that kissing her that night began the best thing he would _ever_ have.

-ARROW-

And there you have it! What I think might've happened if Oliver and Felicity had (kinda) drunkenly kissed. Happy Christmas, Sassy! I hope that it was as good as you hoped! Thank you for reading; please let me know what you think!


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